My name is Alexander. I’m the oldest in my family with seven younger siblings, effectively born into a leadership role. My parents were always very engaged in my education. I, in turn, have always encouraged my younger siblings in their education, bringing home concepts I learned in elementary, middle, high school, and college. My interest in education as a career was kindled at the College of the Desert’s makerspace, as a tutor at College of the Desert’s MESA program, and as a mentor at College of the Desert’s Science Day field trip. My biggest hobby for the last four years has been 3d printing at makerspaces, where I volunteer my time as president of the Roadrunner Makers Club. I’m a student worker at the College of the Desert’s MakerSpace, sharing technical, fabrication and crafting skills with students. Students are often surprised that I place them at the workstation and mentor them through their own projects. They are even more shocked when they realize that they’ve laid the foundation for a new skill. It brings me so much joy when a student says they will come back to make and learn more. I’m also a student worker at College of the Desert’s DSPS department, where we ensure students with disabilities equal access to community college education. This is a very rewarding position where we encourage and foster students’ independence. I spent the 2022-2023 school year as an officer of the Roadrunner Robotics club, working with a team of officers to teach students coding and problem-solving skills at robotics workshops. I served as VP of the MESA club from 2023-2024, where I worked with a team of students and staff to host club events. We consulted with experienced staff and faculty regularly and reflected after each event to better understand our successes and opportunities. I recruited club officers and members with varied experience and perspectives that can benefit our clubs. Every day at College of the Desert, I work to both learn and teach programming, 3d printing, CAD, leadership, and other technological skills, as volunteer, club officer, and as a student employee. I honed and applied my coding skills at MESA’s Winternship. During College of the Desert’s Science Day, I facilitated lectures and hands-on demonstrations of 3d printed rockets. I brought middle-schoolers together into teams to build rockets for the demonstration. This was incredibly engaging for them. I’ve decided to double-major in computer science and business administration, as computers become more central to business and industry. I hope to offer an understanding of both to students I teach in the future. I’m on my education pathway to graduate with both associate degrees in Summer 2025 and a bachelor's degree in Spring 2027. This scholarship and future internship and scholarship opportunities will enable me to transfer for a master’s degree, at which point I look forward to becoming a full-time college instructor.

Minecraft’s meaning to me has changed over the years. It once brought me closer to my younger sister, and now it helps me remember when she was here. As far back as the villager update, my sister, Alexandria, and I watched Youtubers play it. When we finally got our own copies to play together, we couldn’t contain our excitement. We played many worlds. I’d always build my villager apartments and my automated chicken farms. I’d build a warehouse of chests and wide fields of crops. I’d focus every structure around a specific purpose. She, on the other hand, always built these giant mansions. They still stand with tall windows, tall doors, high ceilings, second and third floors, and staircases two meters wide. They were large enough she’d scatter torches across the floors to keep mobs from spawning. Now, they’re what she left. They lie empty. She never furnished any of them, always making them bigger and bigger and giving them pure potential. She filled them with animals. She thought the dolphins and the bees and the dogs were the cutest things ever. She was so brilliant. We would occasionally duel in PVP, where she’d rely on her wits. There was one time she spawned hundreds of zombie pigmen in her base and tricked me into slapping one. When they all turned on me, I ran out her front door. She was ready for this, waiting on a second-story balcony like a mastermind. She splashed a potion of slowness on me that made it IMPOSSIBLE to escape my fate. It all went according to her brilliant plan. Our family was spectating like it was a sport, and we all had a great laugh. I never deleted any of those worlds. I’d always consider freeing up space on my computer, but never did. I stowed them away, playing on new worlds for new updates. Now as I write this, tears in my eyes, I’m thankful I didn’t delete a single one of them. These giant empty mansions were a mark she left. They are full of potential, like she was. She was working toward her college degree in archaeology, but didn’t get to finish. She was excited for the new archaeology tools in Minecraft, but never got to see them. As I write this essay, I finally resolved, after a year and a half, to reopen these worlds. It was hard, but walking around these brings memories of her close to me. Minecraft was a world she left a mark on. She left this world too early, but she made impacts on lives of people and students she knew. She was so happy, very witty, and a joy to be around. I wish she was still here. I wish she was able to finish her degree, to live a longer life, and to have furnished her mansions. I wrote this essay over a week, thinking about those days. Now, I wonder if she meant those shelters for her family. She may have built them for us to fill in. To put those warehouses and chicken farms in. Now, I think I’ll pick up that task. I’ll do my best to fill in a bit of the potential she left too early.

Hello. My name is Alexander. I’m a student at College of the Desert double-majoring in business administration and computer science. I’m pursuing a career in education, and I'll transfer to CSUSB to achieve my bachelor’s degree. Nearly a year ago, I attended the MESA Leadership Conference of fall 2024. I was part of a team of several students given just 36 hours to pitch a service addressing climate action. I attended the event with the assumption that I’d be there primarily to learn from others. I was only a part-time college student, spending most of my week working to afford my schooling. I come from a minority-serving college in a region facing several socioeconomic hardships. This all means that this was my first time ever attending an event like this. I had just begun my path toward a degree in computer science, further setting myself apart from the crowd of STEM majors attending. My initial expectations were that I’d be visiting to watch and learn from the other students. During our first meeting, I quickly realized that I wasn’t alone. Many of the other students were also trying to find their confidence. Others had visions of what the team could do, but were afraid to ask too much of those around them. By the second team meeting, we were still divided between brainstorming or committing to a project. This was further exasperated by the size of the team, nine college students. College assignments due over the weekend had many of us absent from portions of meetings. I knew we had to make a change as the deadline approached rapidly. Rather than throwing another pitch into the mix, or even supporting the one I felt most likely to win, I focused on bringing the team together. We needed a unified vision, so I became more active in leading discussions. During the next brainstorming session, I invited everyone, especially those who had been quieter, to speak their mind. Given time to each speak up with no interruptions, we found that while we were making several different pitches, they all boiled down to the same two ideas. And after hearing these ideas, we quickly and unanimously chose. To continue the open communication, I created a mission-planning document that everyone could access. At every meeting, we’d review previous decisions, to keep everyone up to date and avoid confusion and miscommunications. I also built rapport with the team by holding members accountable. Throughout the retreat, I’d check in to identify roles for the different members. Each member either already knew how they could best contribute, or asked the team how they could support. We listed all these roles on our team document and transferred this list to the acknowledgements in our presentation. As the deadline approached, students who’d been absent for most of the day noted they were unknowingly excluded from the credits, because they'd never taken on any roles. I did my best to avoid embarrassing them, instead finding areas in which they could take on active roles and join the rest of the team. I also strongly encouraged those who had worked diligently to take longer breaks that afternoon, alleviating the uneven workload. As the presentation came together and the day was getting late, team members began coming to me for advice, for help, for support, and for guidance. This was a shock to me. We submitted our proposal several hours early. The next morning, as we began to all leave for home, several students each came to me to thank me for taking on leadership without taking control.

Hello. My name is Alexander. I’m a student at College of the Desert double-majoring in business administration and computer science. I’m pursuing a career in education, and I'll transfer to CSUSB to achieve my bachelor’s degree. Nearly a year ago, I attended the MESA Leadership Conference of fall 2024. I was part of a team of several students given just 36 hours to pitch a service addressing climate action. I attended the event with the assumption that I’d be there primarily to learn from others. I was only a part-time college student, spending most of my week working to afford my schooling. I come from a minority-serving college in a region facing several socioeconomic hardships. This all means that this was my first time ever attending an event like this. I had just begun my path toward a degree in computer science, further setting myself apart from the crowd of STEM majors attending. My initial expectations were that I’d be visiting to watch and learn from the other students. During our first meeting, I quickly realized that I wasn’t alone. Many of the other students were also trying to find their confidence. Others had visions of what the team could do, but were afraid to ask too much of those around them. By the second team meeting, we were still divided between brainstorming or committing to a project. This was further exasperated by the size of the team, nine college students. College assignments due over the weekend had many of us absent from portions of meetings. I knew we had to make a change as the deadline approached rapidly. Rather than throwing another pitch into the mix, or even supporting the one I felt most likely to win, I focused on bringing the team together. We needed a unified vision, so I became more active in leading discussions. During the next brainstorming session, I invited everyone, especially those who had been quieter, to speak their mind. Given time to each speak up with no interruptions, we found that while we were making several different pitches, they all boiled down to the same two ideas. And after hearing these ideas, we quickly and unanimously chose. To continue the open communication, I created a mission-planning document that everyone could access. At every meeting, we’d review previous decisions, to keep everyone up to date and avoid confusion and miscommunications. I also built rapport with the team by holding members accountable. Throughout the retreat, I’d check in to identify roles for the different members. Each member either already knew how they could best contribute, or asked the team how they could support. We listed all these roles on our team document and transferred this list to the acknowledgements in our presentation. As the deadline approached, students who’d been absent for most of the day noted they were unknowingly excluded from the credits, because they'd never taken on any roles. I did my best to avoid embarrassing them, instead finding areas in which they could take on active roles and join the rest of the team. I also strongly encouraged those who had worked diligently to take longer breaks that afternoon, alleviating the uneven workload. As the presentation came together and the day was getting late, team members began coming to me for advice, for help, for support, and for guidance. This was a shock to me. We submitted our proposal several hours early. The next morning, as we began to all leave for home, several students each came to me to thank me for taking on leadership without taking control.